


The Ketchup Debacle at Denny's

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Crack Treated Seriously, Dominant Jschlatt, Gay Sex, M/M, Power Bottom Jschlatt, Prostitution, Quackity's gotta Gun, Semi-Public Sex, Submissive Wilbur, Top Wilbur Soot, condiments as lube, ketchup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Just a crack fic of Jschlatt and Wilbur having some fun at a Denny'sAlso Quackity's got a fucking gun.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Shotgun, Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27
Collections: Anonymous





	The Ketchup Debacle at Denny's

Wilbur decides to go to a Denny’s to see what the hype is about.   
Jschlatt is his server, and he comes over wearing a black apron that definitely went with a French maid dress, saying   
“Can I take your order?”   
“Pancakes. It’s a fucking Denny’s, what do you expect me to order.”   
“Oh sassy. I like it.” Jschlatt says with a wink and a smirk.   
Jschlatt comes back with Wilbur‘s order and gives him maple syrup and black coffee. Wilbur inhales the meal, like just fucking gone in four bites. Jschlatt comes back to check on Wilbur’s meals just to find an empty plate. Wilbur asks for the check. Jschlatt returns to the table super fast because that British twink is really fucking cute.   
The total is $13.69, Wilbur pulls out his wallet just to realize he only has British money. Glancing up at the man with those goddamn luscious lamb chops, Wilbur quietly says   
“I can't pay for this.”   
Jschlatt glances down into Wilbur's wallet, sees his British money’s, and shouts to the Mexican guy behind the register.   
“Yo Quackity, I’m taking this guy to the break room,” Jschlatt wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at the words ‘break room’, “unless he wants to try and outrun your shotgun.”   
“Yes! Go white boy go!” Can be heard from the vicinity of the register.   
Wilbur let’s out a whimper, before nodding and following Jschlatt to the room next to the kitchen. Jschlatt locks the door, then glances to the tall twinkie British man, a fiery lust in his shitty-Manhattan-coffee brown eyes.   
“Pull out your Boris Johnson,” Jschlatt whispers sensually in Wilbur’s ear. “I want you to fuck me over the coffee table harder than Boris fucks over the poor.”   
Wilbur nods eagerly, his member already half mast. Just the thought of his prime minister getting him hot and bothered.   
“D-do... do you need prep?”   
Jschlatt shakes his head, before stripping his apron, trousers, and pants off. Bending over he reveals a neon green butt plug with Dream’s icon stamped on the bottom.   
“Already ready for you big boy.” Jschlatt purrs, “just gotta lube up you Big Ben.”   
Wilbur stepped closer as Jschlatt grabbed the red bottle of ketchup sitting on the table in front of him. Unscrewing the small black cap, Jschlatt squirted a generous amount of ketchup into his hand before lathering it completely onto Wilbur’s cock.   
Wilbur let out a shriek of pain, his dick on fire!   
Jschlatt’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion before he looked at the label on the bottle. The bottle’s label read “Frank’s Red Hot Thick Sauce.”   
“Oh fuck! Oh shit!” Jschlatt said before dropping to his knees.   
He began sucking the sauce off of Wilbur‘s penis, his eyes watering from the spice. He was still a white boy after all. Wilbur looks down at the New Yorker on his knees in front of him, runs his fingers through his hair pushing him farther down his dick, and whispering quietly   
“You’re my favorite white boy.”


End file.
